


self-same mettle

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: my youth is yours [4]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Grooming Mention, Child Neglect, F/M, M/M, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: “I love my sister more than anything in this life; I will choose her happiness over mine every time.”





	self-same mettle

**Author's Note:**

> BIG WARNING; August Reid, who you may remember from the main story, child groom tw, though nothing comes of it he’s still creepy and predatory. Okay so I just wanted to write a little something from Oscar’s perspective in the High School AU. Let me know what you think!!

Oscar’s always been a romantic at heart, always wanted to be the star of his own Mills and Boone novel ever since he was sixteen and found his mother’s stash while hunting for Christmas presents. It had been painfully straight, right when he’d been discovering the delightful world of loving men, but he was invested enough in the romance that he didn’t care.

In 2017, at the tender age of 19, he discovers the author Chuck Tingle, and despite the fact that he’s technically now a literature student, this ridiculous, gay erotica makes his heart happy in ways he can’t quite articulate.

The point is, he knows August Reid, because he’s his dad’s drinking buddy and fellow professor, but Oscar doesn’t think of him much until he takes the man’s class. Ash, who’s fifteen and who spends weekends at the local art gallery down the road, has always been far more artistically minded, Oscar’s always been more drawn to words, but he takes August’s Art History class on a whim.

There’s a certain draw to the whole teacher/student fantasy, and August looks kind of like an older Richard Madden, still angular and defined, but greying at the temples, the prelude to an extraordinary silver fox. So Oscar let’s himself daydream, and take the follow up class, and look forward to the weekends where his dad’s friends would come over to smoke cigars and play cards. August Reid was nothing if not polite, always smiling and kind and happy to see Oscar, answer his questions. Oscar knew he was married, thinks he probably has a kid, and so he was happy to keep his daydreams to himself. He thinks there’s something romantic about quietly unrequited love.

However, it takes a year, once Ash has matured more, not a lot, but enough to catch August’s interest, for the rose-coloured glasses to be ripped off. August takes an interest in her; when he and the rest of their father’s colleagues came over, he would make a point to stop and check in with Ash, encourage her interest in Art, both physical and theoretical, and even suggest research for her, or upcoming exhibits he thought she might like. It’s harmless, at first.

Talk of art turns to compliments, her taste in things, her outfits, how she wears her hair, the colour of her eyes. Ash seems to start looking forward to his visits, and something about it doesn’t sit right with Oscar.

“He’s just, Oz he’s so cool,” she was smiling, blushing a little; she had a crush, it was plain as the nose on her face, “and he said he could get us tickets to the Renaissance exhibit in Glasgow next month, how awesome is that?”

August starts calling her Miss Ashley, a joke that started since she still had a habit of calling him Mr Reid - _because she’s a fucking highschooler, it’s how she’s been taught to address teachers_ \- Ash delights in it, straightens her posture a little when he says it. August makes a habit of petting her head fondly when she does. It makes Oscar’s stomach turn just a little. August shouldn’t be looking at his little sister _like that_, she’s just a _child_.

Their father seems blind to it, tells Oscar ’_don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being kind_’ and when he goes to mum, she just brushes him off, insisting that August is lovely, that he’s so in love with his wife, and that Ash is just excited to have someone who understood her.

“A little schoolgirl crush is harmless, Oscar, dear; weren’t you singing his praises not too long ago?” It’s meant with a wink and a nudge, like perhaps Oscar’s jealous, but his mother can be so dense; it’s _not_ the same _at all_. He’s an adult, and Ash is a child, and yet _he’s_ not the one August is giving leering looks to when he thinks no-one’s looking.

It’s not that their parents don’t love them, it’s just that they don’t particularly _care_. They’re trapped in a loveless marriage, too self absorbed to care about those that can take care of themselves.

So Oscar takes it upon himself.

Oscar’s never understood art like he’s understood literature, never been able to make it make sense in the same way, but that doesn’t matter. The point is, on Sundays, when his father’s colleagues come over for tea and cigars and cards, Oscar’s started taking Ash to art galleries across the country.

“But August is-”

“It’s the impressionists, Ash,” Oscar takes her hand with a grin, practically begging her, “come on they have the Water Lilies,” he enthuses, and Ash’s expression softens.

“I do love the Water Lilies.”

Because he can’t tell her what he’s really doing, because she’s sixteen and thinks she knows everything and the idea of telling her that August has any sort of feelings towards her, even if he explains why that’s creepy and wrong, is probably the worst thing he can do to discourage her. So he distracts her, and is careful to never mention him if he can help it, or steer the conversation away if she brings him up.

She’s his best friend. She’s always been his best friend, but in an abstract, sibling sort of way, but it doesn’t take long for the two of them to become _legitimate_ best friends. He listens to all the drama of her highschool career, and her ideas for sculptures, and anything else she wants to talk about, and in turn he tells her about whatever he’s reading that week, whatever poetry ideas he’s been riffing with lately, and complains about pretty straight boys in his lectures.

Oscar may be a poet, but neither he nor Ash could hold a tune to save their lives, and so of course they sing along to Ash’s Spotify playlists at the top of their lungs whenever they’re driving. There’s three weeks where she plays the _Hamilton_cast recording on repeat, and Oscar finds himself muttering it under his breath in class.

He works nights, and Saturdays, to afford all these day trips, and his family think he’s so diligent, studying and working so hard, and on his day off he spends it with Ash. He keeps local for a few weeks, a few months actually, and surprises her with a trip to the West End for Christmas.

She talks about August less and less as time goes on. Though she does ask about it, in a roundabout way.

“Why’re you spending so much time with me?”

They’re having lunch in the park across from a gallery somewhere in Ireland. Oscar packed jam sandwiches.

“I don’t understand this art shit like you do, but it’s good to find inspiration from all mediums, you know?” Oscar smiles, takes a big bite of his sandwich, and watches Ash wrinkle her nose.

“You sound so pretentious,” she snorted, shaking her head, “but whatever, I’m not gonna complain, you’re the one paying.”

“And I like spending time with you, biscuit.” His voice turned overly sappy, as did his grin, “I love you.” Oscar reached out and ruffled her hair, and Ash squawked, batting his hand away.

“I love you too, ya muppet, but if you wanna hang out we can just do something lowkey, or like, close to home.”

She takes him at his word, which is good because he’s being honest, but she seems content with their routine. Sometimes they go bowling, or to the library, sometimes they go op shopping, or to the movies, but they never miss a week.

She’s his cheerleader at poetry readings, his tour guide at art galleries, and his favourite person at all times. His father’s a literature professor who stopped truly engaging with her about her love of art once he stopped understanding her, and his mother was a Type A accountant who was just disappointed she wasn’t interested in something employable. So Oscar was _her_ cheerleader at art competitors, _her_ enthusiastic student at art galleries, and ends up being her best friend and quietly, her favourite family member.

August asks about her, according to their father, but Ash’s brief infatuation with him seems to have died down.

“Do you have a problem with me, Oscar?” August asks almost a month after Oscar’s started spending Sundays with Ash, and maybe their father’s told August what’s happening, maybe he’s noticed Oscar glaring at him whenever he saw the professor, but either way, he’s so painfully kind when he asks that it’s a dead giveaway; August knows something’s wrong.

“Stay the fuck away from my sister,” Oscar, kind-faced, bright eyed Oscar, snarls. He’s 6'3" and never more thankful for his height as he towers over August.

“I’m simply showing an interest in her, she’s an art enthusiast, I’m an art professor, don’t worry-”

“I don’t give a shit; look like the innocent flower but be the fucking serpent under it, right?”

“I don’t understand what you mean? Does your father know you feel this way? Does Ash?” And it doesn’t sound like a threat, it sounds like a very genuine question, but Oscar wants nothing more than to punch him in his stupid, angular nose.

“Does your wife know you spend weekends ogling underage girls?” Oscar fires back, and August’s expression sours considerably, his mouth closed in a tight, humourless line. “Yeah, dad knows, not that he gives a shit,” Oscar sneered, “but if you go _near_ my sixteen year old sister again, you smarmy creepy -” his voice dropped very low, expression dark, his hands balling into fists by his side.

“If your father’s not bothered by it I don’t see why you should be, I haven’t done anything wrong, but you’re throwing around some serious implications here,” August gives a blithe smile, “Ash is an incredible young woman I’m simply encouraging her passion.”

“August Reid, I need you to know that I’m not threatening you,” Oscar said calmly, “I’m _promising_ you; I’ll fucking kill you.”

And maybe he doesn’t believe Oscar would legitimately harm him, but he sees it’s not a fight he’s going to win. August leaves Ash well enough alone after that.

At the start of their Summer break, before Ash is due to start her second last year of high school, their father gets a job in England, their mother gets an excuse to leave her loveless marriage, and Ash and Oscar get a choice. Oscar knows without even having to ask that Ash will stick with him. He also knows that in two years, if she’s still here, she’ll end up studying under August and his father’s other creepily complicit friends. Oscar’s playing the long game to keep his sister safe when he announces he’ll be going to England with their dad.

He lies, says he doesn’t mind transferring courses and maybe retaking some classes at this new university, makes sure he’s nothing but positive when he talks about the move, and Ash, add expected, joins him. It hurts to leave the life he’s building himself, but he knows it’s what’s best for Ash.

Adjusting to a new life is difficult, and some weeks they don’t end up spending Sunday together. Oscar let’s himself relax, takes time for himself, and starts to build new relationships, new connections in this new situation he’s found himself in.

Here, he didn’t have to worry about Ash so much. She was still his best friend, but now she could just be a teenager without a creepy professor leering at her and grooming her. Though quietly, Oscar was just glad she still wanted to spend time with him; she still goes to his poetry readings, still wants to go on day trips with him, and she’s starting to get to know his new friends little by little.

Meeting Freddie is like getting hit by a freight train; they’re both taking a Creative Industries subject as an elective, and they get partnered together. Freddie is intense and warm in equal measure, a lover of cats judging by the pins on his bag, he’s always drawing or doodling something on his notebook, and he writes songs. Oscar adores him from the moment he meets him. He’s always busy, always on the move or at band practice, but he seems to like Oscar well enough, so the two of them start having lunch together a few times a week.

Freddie thinks Oscar’s selfless when he learns about everything that had happened back in Scotland.

“Picking up and moving your whole life just to make sure she’s safe,” Freddie shakes his head, “you’re a Saint, you know that?”

“She’s my sister, I couldn’t _not_ do it,” Oscar laughs a little self consciously, but Freddie just seemed endeared.

They’re messaging almost every day. Freddie sends draft song lyrics and selfies with his cats and Oscar will send bits of poems and shitty angled selfies or photos taken by Ash. They both live busy lives, but they keep up with each other without even trying.

[_I’ve got a cat named Oscar, you know?_]

[_I didn’t actually. You really like me well enough to name a cat after me_ 😂😜]

[_har har I’ve known the cat longer. sorry to disappoint._ 😘]

He’s so caught up in his new life and his new friends, and Ash seems so happy with her new school, especially their art program, that it takes Oscar a while to realise how painfully lonely Ash was. She’s always been introverted, always focused more on her projects than on the people around her, but when Oscar realises that person she talks most about is her physics tutor, it hits him that she doesn’t actually have any friends her own age here. She likes _his_ friends well enough, one even got her a fake ID if she might ever need it, but she had none of her own.

“How was school?” They’ve been here for about three months, and finally things have maybe started to look up.

“Fine; we’re starting sculpture making in art,” Ash said offhandedly, rolling her eyes; she already spent time outside of school making sculptures, the idea of being graded on it now seemed trivial, “this one dumbass spent like twenty minutes negotiating with a teacher about whether he can also make a second sculpture for fun.” Ash’s voice was flat, unimpressed.

“Sounds like someone you’d get along with-”

“He wants to make a dick.”

Dick Sculpture Guy turns to Fucking Roger, and Oscar starts to hear more about him, because Roger’s always seemingly causing a scene and Ash is endlessly annoyed with him, though she once let it slip that she thinks he’s rather hot, and Oscar, though he’s never brought it up, will never forget it.

Until he gets a call on Friday afternoon, from Ash, in tears, asking him to come to the school.

She’s surrounded by the pieces of her broken major work when he arrives, and there’s a tall, dark haired guy checking up on her. _This_ is Brian, the tutor he’s heard so much about. He’s thankful, but comforting Ash is his first priority.

Brian leaves, and together the siblings piece together her work. The school gets locked at five, and they’re there until the very last minutes. Once the bust is sitting up on one of the desks at the edge of the room, Ash sniffles only a little bit.

“I’ll paint the cracks gold.”

“Kintsugi,” Oscar adds, nodding sagely and Ash actually beams at him, “see, I listen to you, biscuit.”

He suggests they go to Freddie’s gig to take her mind off of it, though it’s also because she’s been asking to meet Freddie for a while now, but he’s always been busy. However, things don’t go as planned when not only is Ash’s tutor part of the band, but Fucking Roger is too. Fucking Roger who’s sculpture exploding made Ash cry.

Ash is adamant she’s going to kill him. Oscar doesn’t stop her. She disappears around the end of the bar after Roger, while the rest of the band - Freddie, Brian, and some kid called John - hang back.

Ash decidedly _doesn’t_ kill Roger, and actually ends up enjoying her night, which Oscar’s glad for. That being said, he’s a little bit distracted; he’s quickly discovering that Brian might be the loveliest person he’d ever met. Brian’s an astrophysics student, a guitarist, a tutor, and he took the time to check up on Ash; Oscar hasn’t been seriously romantically interested in anyone since high school, and he’s only met Brian _today_, but damn if there wasn’t definitely a crush forming.

They play good music, and Ash seems to have a good time, and he tells himself that that’s all that matters.

Days go by, weeks go by, the siblings keep going to Queen’s gig’s, and Fucking Roger turns to just Roger. Oscar messages Brian and Freddie that Ash might have a crush and Freddie sends back a wheezed voice message saying that Roger probably does too, but that he’s stubborn as hell and would never be the first to admit it. Something warms in Oscar’s heart at that. Slowly but surely, between Roger and John, Ash is _finally_making friends her own age.

Ash deserves a normal-ish crush on a normal-ish boy, and Oscar will do anything to encourage that crush. So they go to gigs, and Oscar wiggles his eyebrows at her when Roger’s got an arm around her between sets, and Ash turns as red as her hair. But Brian’s got a hand on his thigh where they’re sitting near the door, and it feels weirdly normal, and kind of the best.

To see Ash smiling and happy, everything was worth it. It’s all worked out, though he knows he’ll never stop worrying about her, not that he’d want to.


End file.
